


Gone

by The_Sunflower_Seed



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Lots of Angst, Mainly blood though, Military, Reader-Insert, Sick!Reader, gore?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 14:38:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10596075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Sunflower_Seed/pseuds/The_Sunflower_Seed
Summary: Your world shattered as sobs wracked your body from the loss of your soulmate whom you shared every single second of your day with only for him to be taken away from you.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is based off a sketch crossbust did and I decided to take a dramatic turn with this reader insert. Crossbust is a fantastic artist and I recommend you check them out on Tumblr! BTW all my reader inserts are separated so they don’t connect at all. Signing Off: The Sunflower Seed
> 
> Key  
> (E/c): eye color  
> (F/n): first name  
> (H/c): hair color

This battle was fierce! Smoke and dust were kicked up everywhere, becoming harder to see by the minute. Apparently, the CIA knew what the Autobot’s in their holoform looked like and ambushed you when you were out in the forest, hoping to draw them out. It worked because now here you are stuck behind a huge fallen tree, the bullets hitting the thick bark or the ground in front of it. Crosshairs was luckily by your side since he had a bad feeling about you being in the woods today. His intuition was right.

As much as he could’ve been in his Cybertronian form, it was a surprise attack, not giving him enough time to react. Here he was, in human form, sniping and shooting anything that came into view. Cross wasn’t the only Autobot here, once the fire fight got into full swing, Hound had showed up while Drift and Bumblebee were on their way over.

“Ah shit!” You looked over to Cross as he sat back down, his right cheek had a thin strip going horizontally from his cheekbone to barely grazing his earlobe. You heard something fall in the forest behind you guys and immediately, Crosshairs tackled you, covering your body with his. There was an explosion, rocking the ground that was somewhat far away enough from the both of you. The air smelt funny but it wasn’t poisonous at least you hoped it wasn’t. The air was covered with white smoke, the sweet scent making it hard to breathe! You started coughing, bringing your shirt up to cover your nose and mouth as a makeshift filter, Crosshairs jumping off you as the gunfire started getting heavier.

It was hard to see anything as the white smoke clouded your vision. You kept low, not wanting to get yourself killed. You heard something crackle next to you and a voice (you assumed it was Hound’s) shouted, “They’re here!” A hand grabbed you by the shoulder and through the smoke you could just barely make out Crosshairs as he helped you to your feet, “We’re moving back a bit, keep up!” You ran wherever Crosshairs lead you to. Hopefully it wasn’t a bad spot like the fallen log. You weaved between trees and ran up a very steep incline where there was another fallen tree but this time there were two men waiting for you both.

You recognized them by Crosshairs description of them: Drift and Bumblebee. Drift had taken the form of what you assumed to be a Japanese man dressed in a black military uniform with blue highlights while Bumblebee was a teenager dressed in a similar fashion but with yellow highlights.

“Get her to safety!” You heard Crosshairs barked and that’s when you saw something glittering in the sky before heading rapidly towards your position.

“Watch out!” It didn’t come out in time as the device slammed in the center of your makeshift circle, the explosion strong enough to send you flying a few feet away, your head slamming hard against the ground. Your ears rang, blocking out other noise as your vision swam to try and get back to normal. It took a few tumbles before you managed to get on your feet and stumble through the dark smoke, signaling something was set on fire. You hoped Crosshairs made it through with little to no injury from that explosion.

It was hard to hear what was happening, everything was dull, nearly going silent. Crosshairs ran into view, pulling you towards him before forcing you to the ground, joining as something like a bland whiz passed overhead. Another explosion rocked your world, this time not as violent as the one before.

“They’re retreating!”

“Push them back!” It was Hound’s voice and you shook your head, the dizziness fading, the ringing, everything which once impeded your perception of the world disappeared in an instant. Everything was clearer and the smoke had slowly started disappearing, the others backs to you as they shot at the retreating CIA operatives. You slowly sat up, Crosshairs next to you as he scanned the front line with his sniper scope, picking off anyone too close to his liking.

It was safe.

A glint to the left pulled your attention and you knew immediately what it was.

“Sniper! To your left!” You urged quickly, Crosshairs swung around and levelled his sniper rifle at the threat in the oak tree and you heard two shots. One made the sniper topple out of the tree, the other made your heart stop. The bullet pierced through Crosshairs chest and it was a through and through. He fell backwards and you rushed to grab him, his heavy weight slammed into your arms, the left side of his trench coat once a military green slowly turning into a deep red with every second that passes. Cross’s head lolled back a couple times, his rifle slipping from his arms and onto the ground below. Your hand cupped his cheek and rubbed it, his eyes seeming to go in every direction except looking at you.

“Cross! Cross! Look at me!” You were trying to keep the fear out of your voice, wiping a bit of blood off his right cheekbone before pressing the palm of your hand onto the injury on his chest. Crap! It must’ve pierced his heart! A calloused hand brushed your cheeks, his smile weak as his skin turned pale, “I’ll be fine. I always am.”

Tears prickled your eyes, that was a blatant lie! He wasn’t okay and you could see it in his features as his eyes started getting a little bit cloudier, his skin slowly getting clammy, and his breaths were getting shallower. You were surprised when Crosshairs pressed his lips against yours and breathed out, “Love you.”

And then he was gone.

“Cross!” No! No! This couldn’t be happening to you! Not to him! You shook Crosshairs, his eyes were shut, and a little bit of blood trickled out from the corner of his mouth. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you held him close, trying to get him back to the world of the living only to fail. Your world shattered as sobs wracked your body from the loss of your soulmate whom you shared every single second of your day with only for him to be taken away from you.

You don’t know how long you held Crosshairs but it didn’t feel like long before his comrades came over, their faces staring at the both of you. You didn’t know what to do. A hand landed on your shoulder, you looked up to face Drift, his hair now loose and cascading down his shoulders, his blue eyes bright with regret and sadness. He knelt down and his voice barely registering to your straining ears, “Let us take him.”

A part of you didn’t want to let Crosshairs go but another part of you told you it was the right thing to do. Weakly you nodded your consent, relaxing your arms, two sets grabbing Cross under his arms and another under his knees. You tried to look over at what the other Autobots were doing but Drift grabbed your shoulders so they pointed at him instead of where Cross was being lifted off to.

“You do not want to see. Trust me.” Something horrible struck in you and all you could do was look down at your hands covered in blood, Crosshair’s blood to be exact. It was still bright and you took a couple shaking inhales, too shocked and too upset to do anything else. You heard murmuring, everything disappeared around you as you were lost in thought.

You couldn’t think of anything, your heart catching painfully a couple of times, still in shock. What was going to happen to Cross? To you? These weren’t things you both had ever talked about and now you wish you had no matter how awkward the conversation could’ve gone.

“(F/n).” Your eyes turned to Drift and he grabbed your elbow, pulling you to your feet, before wrapping an arm around you for support as you made your way through the forest in silence. How you’d give anything for this to be a nightmare right now! The forest blurred until you got to the main highway where a man in business casual stood, his head shiny bald, thick glasses, and a five o’clock shadow. He looked distressed but when his eyes laid on you, his hand went to his mouth with horror.

No words, exchanges, nor sound passed between the three of you except for him to open the car door of an SUV. That’s all you could think about before climbing into the back, quietly scooting all the way to the left, Drift climbing in after you. You stared out the window, no other vehicles present except for this one.

“Drift, what happened?”

“I will explain when we get back.”

You tuned them out after that, your hands idly laying in your lap while your eyes looked up towards the grey sky. Your mind drifted a bit back to Crosshairs, his blue eyes were so beautiful and they were always filled with some mischief which made you both nervous and excited. It was never a dull day when Cross was around. Now what?

“Hey, (f/n).” The voice was new. You turned your head to the man sitting in the passenger seat, his eyes trained on you not like a predator but more like a cautious person towards a wounded animal. You only acknowledged him with a stare before he turned back to facing the front. It must’ve not been important then.

Your eyes closed, dreams of Crosshairs filtered through your mind and for once you wished they were your reality.

* * *

Your week flew by with shaky introductions and arrangements for Cross’s funeral. All paid by Joshua Joyce, the man who has tried to start conversations with you only to back out when you acknowledged him. Everyone in the house knew you through Cross and they’ve tried to give you their full support on the clock. You’ll give them credit for trying but they were on high alert after the forest incident, now they were somewhat paranoid about their safety and yours. It was kind of a blessing in disguise really. When they would be out for the day (or night, depending on the schedule,) you’d cry yourself to the point of exhaustion, sleeping for hours to the point of nearly clearing up to twenty-four hours!

It was unhealthy but you couldn’t exactly spill your emotional baggage to anyone else for they didn’t know you and you don’t think they’ve ever could amount to the pain and suffering you were dealing with.

The funeral didn’t help either. It was the only time anyone has truly seen you sob. Crosshair’s funeral was simple with roses on his casket and he looked like he was sleeping. You could only stand in the grass, tears staining your cheeks as Crosshairs was laid to rest in the corner of the property, away from the house. The house or “base” as the others called it, was on fifty acres of land, the house towards the front edge of the property, Cross was back by the northeast corner. A simple headstone rested where he was, given a human birth date and the date of his death.

Joyce was kind enough to make falsified documents about Crosshairs, relating to his death certificate to birth certificate, and other documents you could claim benefits from the government. It wasn’t much but you appreciated the gesture. By the second week, the Autobots had moved you into a room between Drift and Bumblebee instead of the empty third floor. You wondered why they had done that but you had heard the men talk about you from downstairs, their voices floating upwards one night as you made your way to use the bathroom.

“I’m truly scared for (f/n), she hasn’t eaten much in as little as a week.” Drift’s voice quietly pointed out. You looked over the railing to see everyone gathered around in a circle, dressed in their combat gear. Joyce was there too, he was sitting in a recliner with his Ipad out. Bumblebee picked at a seam on his right thigh and asked, “Why is she on our floor? I thought we had agreed to put her somewhere else in the house? You know for her grieving stage?”

Hound puffed a cigar, “It’s so then we don’t find her dead a week later.”

You were mad at them for insinuating you’d commit suicide after Crosshair’s death! Your fists were balled tight, to the point your fingernails cut into the palm of your hands, drawing a bit of blood. You were furious! You pushed off the urgency of the bathroom and marched back into your bedroom, quietly closing the door before you threw yourself onto the bed, sobbing into the sheets.

Everything hurt! From your heart breaking a million times over in two weeks to where everyone thought you were going to try committing suicide. You will admit it passed your mind but you’d bat it away before it could manifest itself. You cried yourself to sleep, except sleep wasn’t a sweet reprieve from the world. It plagued you, memories of that day made you shake and scream in your sleep. Seeing Crosshairs die repeatedly until Hound would bust in and shake you awake. It had become a new routine which you didn’t lie but you couldn’t control it. And that was how life was for two weeks.

* * *

You weren’t feeling well for the past few weeks. You had chalked it up to the smoke and other pollutants the battle released but it had lasted a lot longer than usual. But then you were constantly tired which again you chalked it up to losing Crosshairs, even now it hurt your heart thinking about him and his funeral. Whenever you were emotional whether extreme sadness or anger, it always left you feeling exhausted. And that wasn’t all the problems you had, the main culprit that got everyone concerned for your safety was the inability to hold your meals down and you were constantly dizzy as though dehydrated.

The Autobot’s said the gases you were exposed to might’ve been poisoning you. Finally, after roughly a week of nagging from the Autobot’s, you consented to go visit the doctor. It was a basic clinic, walls were painted a mint green as though trying to relax those about to go in and get their checkups. You didn’t mind doctors but you did mind needles. Those things were traumatizing since you were a child, the pain of vaccinations haunted you.

Joshua Joyce was sitting next to you, his phone out for a bit before he turned to you.

“(F/n),” You turned your head to him and released a long exhale, drowsiness plaguing you, “I meant what I said: if you need anything, anything at all, you let me know and I’ll cover for it.” All you could do was simply nod and give a tiny smile. You did appreciate the generosity Mr. Joyce was willing to share but it still felt a bit too soon only because the depression, the angst of losing your soulmate, it was still there and it’ll always be with you.

A cold wave swept over your body and your vision went blurry, your stomach painfully moving a bit upwards. Time to go worship the porcelain throne again. You shakily stood up and quickly walked to the restroom and busted in, hurriedly ejecting your breakfast this morning. You ate light when you were this sick. As your body lurched violently to get the rest of your stomach contents released, you heard a female voice call for you.

You moaned in pain and in dismay about the timing, nausea still having a giant hold on you. Your hand scrabbled for a piece of toilet paper, wiping off excess vomit from your lips before walking up to the sink, washing your hands. You looked in the mirror and damn, you did not look your greatest. Your skin was extremely pale, there are dark circles under your (e/c) eyes from the constant lack of sleep, your (h/c) hair drying from the rushed shower, and you looked like you walked through hell itself.

No time to dwell on the philosophical debate of what you represent, you had to go see the doctor and quickly! You turned the doorknob and walked out, seeing Joyce talk to the nurse. She was pretty, with brown hair and green eyes, slightly tan, and when she looked at you, it wasn’t as though she was staring at a ghost. She was acknowledgeable, holding out her hand and greeting you with a warm smile. A tiny smile is all you offered before she introduced herself as Cindy.

“Would you like him to accompany you?” Her eyes pointed to Joyce and you nodded. You didn’t want to be alone, particularly after throwing up and feeling like you’re about to faint. He generously linked his arm with yours, supporting you into the exam room. You didn’t pay attention to where you were going, not caring where you went as long as the doctor can resolve your illness. Movements flew by in slow motion as you answered the basic questions (“Do you smoke?”, “Drink alcohol?”, “Have you gone out of the U.S. in the past six months?”, etc.) It went like that until finally the nurse left, letting you know your doctor was Mrs. Upton.

“Did you hear what the nurse said?”

“No.” You replied, your voice hollow and like a whisper, raising your head from the clean white tile to meet with Joyce’s face. He rested a hand on your shoulder and smoothed out a wrinkle in your t-shirt before dropping his voice a bit, “The dehydration we nagged you about, it’s coming back to bite you in your ass. They’re going to take a blood sample from you and then pump you with fluids so then you’re not as sick.”

“Ok.” It was all you could offer. At this point, you’re willing to do anything just to get rid of this shitty feeling. You laid back all the way onto the hospital bed with a cheap foam top, a thin strap of paper crinkling under your weight. You don’t think you could move yourself to the blood extraction, at least not without help.

The door clicked open and Cindy came back in this time with a doctor with blonde hair cut in a pixie, her eyes a soft hazel, and she wore bright red lipstick. Her white coat billowed behind her as she moved over to the computer system, swiveling it so it faced you.

“Good afternoon (f/n), my name is Mrs. Upton and I see that you were experiencing nausea, vomiting, and fatigue for the past few weeks. Am I correct?” Again, you nodded. Her smile faltered a bit but when she glanced down at the clipboard, she raised her head, “I see we have somewhat of an urgent problem concerning your dehydration. We’ll get an IV started for you but since we’re about to poke you with a needle, we decided to take a blood sample in case we’re dealing with something else like mono. And we don’t want you to go through a misdiagnosis.”

“Ok.” You responded hearing something being rolled into the room. Before you could get a chance to lift yourself and see what was happening, Joyce came into view. He put a hand on your arm and gently pushed you down.

“You don’t want to see what they’re doing.” You heard Cindy shuffle around and Joyce again joined your view, keeping his hands to himself, “What do you think about your new place?”

“It’s ok, I’m not fighting with anyone if that’s what you’re wondering.” You winced as something stabbed into the vein of your left arm, surprising you on how fast the nurse moved. A hand rubbed your shoulder and you heard Cindy’s voice, “Don’t tense up. It’s going to hurt more if you do.” It was hard to relax but you somehow willed your arm to go lax and waited uncomfortably for the blood to stop being drawn.

Mrs. Upton tried to start a conversation about your personal life and before you could politely tell her not to stick her nose into your business, Joyce was kind enough to explain, “She’s been through a lot. It’s personal and she’d like to be left to her thoughts.”

“Fine but is there anything else she has been experiencing that’s out of the ordinary? Like exposure to certain chemicals or anything potentially hazardous for the past three weeks?”

“Not to our knowledge.”

You would have to thank Joyce later for talking to the doctors, you weren’t in the mood to try to explain the past three weeks. They’ve been hell and all you wanted to do was wake up from this nightmare. You watched something pink leave, something cold being pumped into your veins. You turned your head to see an IV stand in the corner of the room, Cindy now absent.

“We’re going to do a rush on your blood screening. Hopefully it’ll tell us what’s really wrong with you.” Mrs. Upton kindly walked out of the room and when the door closed, you put an arm over your eyes to block out the lights, your stomach growling dangerously. Shit! You didn’t want to throw up! Especially when there’s an IV connecting you to a machine connected to a wall! You tried to think of something else so then it didn’t urge you to throw up.

Your mind kept going back to Crosshairs, your asshole who’s now gone. You dodged the worst memory of him, going to one that made you feel a bit better.

* * *

_It was after one of your sessions with Crosshairs, he was spooning you, his hot skin pressed against yours, lips pressing soft kisses to your neck. You smiled and giggled, rolling over so you could cup his cheek, his beard tickling the palm of your hand. His face escaped your hand and kissed you passionately. Whenever your asshole was around, it made your heart flutter. Silence was comfortable since you didn’t need words to convey how you two felt about one another._

_A soft chuckle from Crosshairs made you look up into his bright blue eyes, a lazy grin on his face, “Hm…that was a nice appetizer but I’d like a taste of the main course.” You rolled your eyes and rolled on top of Crosshairs. When he tried to grab your hips to flip you over, you snatched his wrists and pinned them over his head._

_“Well someone’s on a power trip.” He wiggled his eyebrows and you giggled as you set a kiss against his lips again, “And when are you not?”_

_“What? Thought you liked that about me?” His mischievous eyebrows wiggled again and this time you pulled back a bit to rest your forehead against his. Your grip faltered on his wrists, giving him the opportunity to pull his wrists away and hold your face, thumbs tracing your cheekbones. Cross sat up, “Enjoying the view there?”_

_“I can’t help it, you have your own gravitational pull.” He laughed so hard at that joke, it made him breathless. That’s something you’ve always been proud of and you’d treasure that memory._

* * *

“(F/n), they’re back.” Joyce’s voice interrupted your thoughts and you slowly pulled your arm back, wincing at the brightness of the ceiling lights. After a few squinting blinks, you slowly propped yourself up on your elbows, Joyce adjusting the table so then it was at a comfortable incline for you to lean against.

“You comfortable?”

You nodded and Mrs. Upton looked down at the clipboard, “Good because we have your results.” You waited with bated breath. She flipped through the paperwork, scanning the words that will ultimately decide what’s wrong with you. Once she had found the results and what was wrong with you, she looked at you and immediately your stomach sank.

“Congratulations, you’re pregnant.”


End file.
